


good vibrations

by asweetepilogue



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, Geralt purrs when he's happy, M/M, Soft sex, Witcher Biology (The Witcher), kind of, low key tho, this is my first time writing smut so yall like it lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26956429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asweetepilogue/pseuds/asweetepilogue
Summary: Geralt apparently forgot to mention that witchers sometimes purr when they're particularly content. Jaskier finds this out at an opportune moment.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 19
Kudos: 575
Collections: Abby's Witcher Collection





	good vibrations

**Author's Note:**

> yall can blame this on thecomfortofoldstorries on tumblr for [this post](https://thecomfortofoldstorries.tumblr.com/post/631657579301535744/so-we-all-love-purring-witchers-yesi-had-a) about Jaskier finding out Geralt purrs when they're fucking. I made it soft like I always fucking do. 
> 
> This is my first explicit fic so any feedback is much appreciated! Big thanks to Miah for giving it a once over

Jaskier’s biggest concern was that he wouldn’t last long enough.

They’d only done this a few times, and before it had been all slick hands and tongues, too desperate to draw things out. Now that he could finally touch Geralt how he wanted to, Jaskier felt drunk on it all the time. He would meet Geralt’s hot eyes across a crowded tavern and moments later they would be tucked against the back wall, fumbling for each other's trousers. It reminded Jaskier of his days at Oxenfurt, except the sex was astronomically better than it had been in his early twenties. Jaskier had been so preoccupied these last few weeks by fulfilling his lifelong dream of sucking Geralt’s cock that he’d paid little mind to his other fantasies of fucking him. He hadn’t been sure that Geralt would go in for it, but when he’d finally mustered up the courage to ask _Would you mind terribly if I fucked you?_ Geralt had just looked at him with wide, blown out pupils and honest to god whined at him. Jaskier had taken it as a positive sign. 

Normally he would do this with his partner on all fours, but this time Jaskier spread Geralt out on his back and knelt between his legs like he was paying tribute at a shrine. He wanted to see Geralt’s face as he worked him open, liberally coating his fingers in oil and slowly taking him apart. With the way Geralt writhed and panted underneath him, Jaskier expected that very few people had bothered to do so in the past. Which was their loss, as far as he was concerned. Geralt with two fingers up his ass was Geralt at his absolute finest, white hair spread in a scattered halo around his face as he turned into the pillow beside him to muffle his moans. Sweat gathered between his pectorals and in the hollow of his stomach, begging to be tasted. Jaskier pressed open mouthed kisses across shaking thighs as he pistoned his fingers in and out of the tight clutch of Geralt’s body, curling them up occasionally to brush against the spot that made Geralt tense and shudder beneath him. It was a particularly heady sensation, to be able to give Geralt pleasure like this. To be trusted enough to be _inside_ him. Jaskier was dizzy with it, lust and affection making his head spin and his chest ache. 

Finally, when Geralt was taking four of his fingers easily and practically drooling, Jaskier slicked himself up and held his cock at Geralt’s entrance. He slid his hand along Geralt’s jaw, urging him to meet his eyes. The witcher’s brow was drawn down tight as if in concentration, his lips parted on heavy sighs. The temptation was too much; Jaskier ducked down to kiss him sloppily, fucking his tongue into Geralt’s mouth like a promise. 

They both groaned as Jaskier pushed inside, a barely there press that still felt like too much and not enough all at once. Jaskier’s fingers tightened on Geralt’s jaw, and he focused on searching the witcher’s face for any sign of discomfort. He found none, and had to hold himself back from sinking too quickly into the smooth heat of Geralt’s body. Jaskier had never wanted to be inside someone so badly, not only because he was hard to the point of pain but also because he wanted to know Geralt there. He wanted to know every part of Geralt he could reach, and more besides. 

It felt like ages before he bottomed out, but eventually he found himself fully seated, his forehead pressed to Geralt’s as they both adjusted to the heat and stretch of it. Geralt unclenched his fingers from where they’d been tearing up the sheets and moved to spread them across Jaskier’s back, petting over his flushed skin. “If you don’t move -” Geralt ground out, his tone full of warning. 

Jaskier shifted his head to the side to press a kiss below Geralt’s ear. He wanted to say something snarky back, like he might have any other time they’d done this, but the moment felt too big, Geralt too perfect around him. “Shh,” he said instead. His fingers skirted down Geralt’s flank, making the other man shiver. “I’ve got you.” 

Geralt shuddered underneath him, his expression twisted up in pleasure as Jaskier pulled out halfway and then thrust back in. It was good, so good, Geralt tight and slick around him, and it was better because Jaskier could see how good it was for Geralt. How his mouth fell open in a tiny gasp whenever Jaskier pushed back inside, how his fingers flexed against Jaskier’s back and hips - always restrained, desperate not to hurt him. Maybe someday Jaskier would get him to leave a mark that he wouldn’t feel bad about, so Jaskier could keep the evidence of Geralt’s desire for him beyond just this moment. 

After a few thrusts Jaskier found the right angle, the one that had Geralt gasping as his cock jumped between them. It had remained untouched so far, precome slicking their stomachs where it had been pressed between them. Jaskier let go of Geralt’s knee to take him in hand, relishing the way Geralt groaned at the touch. Pulling away from the hickey he’d been working on, he breathed out against Geralt’s ear. “Love the way you sound,” he said, panting as he thrust his hips forward again. “You’re so good for me, you’re so good, Geralt.” Jaskier knew he was almost babbling, but he couldn’t help it. He needed Geralt to know how pleasing he was, how much Jaskier loved being in him, having Geralt beneath him, curled over his sweat slicked form. How much Jaskier loved him. 

Suddenly something _happened_. At first Jaskier couldn’t identify it, blindsided by the sudden and overwhelming pleasure that raced along his cock where it was buried inside Geralt. There was a kind of low humming around him, constant and teasing. Jaskier ground his hips into the sensation, chasing after it. “Wha -” he said, “what, what is - Oh gods, fuck, _Geralt._ ” Releasing Geralt’s cock to brace himself against his chest, he could feel the sensation there too, even stronger. Geralt’s whole chest was vibrating softly, like a tuning fork that had been struck against his breastbone. The witcher looked almost embarrassed, but Jaskier didn’t have time to consider the ramifications of that. The vibrations were sending him teetering closer to the edge with a mortifying rapidity. “I’m going to come,” he ground out, his thrusts growing erratic. Taking Geralt’s cock in hand once again, he tried to focus his remaining willpower on nailing Geralt’s prostate as many times as he could. 

It was a losing battle. The strange vibrations continued to play along Jaskier’s cock, and it was only moments before he was coming with a strangled cry. He was dimly aware of Geralt tensing beneath him soon after, and Jaskier spared a moment to be disappointed that he wasn’t more lucid. Next time, he thought dazedly. 

He slowly pulled out as the shockwaves faded from his limbs, flopping to the side to catch his breath. After a moment Geralt shifted out of the bed, and Jaskier felt a stab of alarm. He turned onto his side to see where he’d gone, but Geralt was already returning, a damp cloth in hand. Jaskier blushed. “Ah, thank you, dearest,” he said, accepting it. “I think I’m supposed to be the one helping you get cleaned up, though.”

Geralt gave him a smile, small but genuine. “You looked like you needed a moment,” he said, voice all gravel. Jaskier shivered a bit, despite the fact that he still had cum cooling on his stomach. He quickly cleaned himself up, and helped Geralt do the same. Once they were finished and the rag had been disposed of, Jaskier pulled Geralt back down into the bed, settling against him with a contented sigh. 

“You know,” he said, conversationally, “that was rather good, I thought. For a first time, especially.” Geralt hummed in agreement, one hand lazily tracing a wide path down Jaskier’s spine. “I do feel the need to ask, though, ah, what that was there at the end.”

Geralt stilled beside him, tense. Jaskier immediately regretted asking. Whatever it was, it wasn’t worth making Geralt uncomfortable. “You don’t have to answer,” Jaskier said, and pressed a quick kiss to Geralt’s shoulder. The closest thing in reach. 

Geralt sighed, relaxing slightly at the small touch. “It’s fine,” he said, a bit gruffly. “We… do that sometimes. If we need to go into an especially deep meditative trance, or if we need to regulate our body temperature.” He paused before continuing, lower than before. His tone reticent. “Or if we’re happy. Sometimes.”

Jaskier pushed up a bit to meet Geralt’s eyes. The witcher avoided his gaze for a moment before giving in, his expression guarded. Jaskier was just confused. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before, and I’ve seen you happy loads of times.”

Geralt huffed out a breath. Jaskier could feel the warmth of his flush, with how close they were. “It’s not just happy,” he said. “We have to feel… safe. Protected. I, ah. Haven’t done it in years, outside of meditation.”

Jaskier felt warmth envelop him, his own cheeks going hot. “Oh,” he said, unable to form any other words. Geralt had felt _safe_ with him. With Jaskier inside him, Geralt at his most vulnerable, he’d felt safe. Jaskier pressed an awed hand to Geralt’s chest, where the low hum had been strongest. Something breathtaking was expanding in Jaskier’s own chest. It felt so monumental that he had to do something with it, so he leaned forward and kissed Geralt as sweetly as he could. He tried to communicate the magnitude of it all in a way that Geralt would understand, in the press of lips and a quiet exhale of breath. When he pulled back, Geralt no longer looked nervous. Instead he regarded Jaskier with a soft expression, open and honest and affectionate. Jaskier loved him so fucking much he thought it might destroy him, or maybe save him. “Well,” he said, clearing his throat of the emotion threatening to cut him off, “I hope to hear it again soon.” 

Geralt huffed again, but this time it was a joyful little sound, and leaned in to kiss Jaskier again. He might have been imagining it, but Jaskier swore he could sense a little rumble under his palm. 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me at [asweetprologue](asweetprologue.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


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